Murphy's Law
by mcskull
Summary: A Marine with the worst kind of 'Murphy's Law' in his wake, and he's recruited into a mission with the Spartans. Things of course go wrong, but maybe even something good. Heavy M rating so young ones be warned! R&R if possible thanks! CH4 up.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: A Marine with the worst kind of 'Murphy's Law' in his wake, and he's recruited into a mission with the Spartans. Things of course go horribly wrong, Linda, Spartan-058 ends up with him. Is she really all Spartan like everyone believes or is there still a woman under that ice and armor. **

**Yes, there is an aim for a LindaXOC romance, and maybe even more.**

**A/N: Mild AU of Halo, no true canon time frame involved either. Borrowed a little element from _Armor by John Steakly. _**

**Disclaimer: Don't own the Halo-verse or Armor. Just wrote a little story that's all.**

* * *

"Drop in 5." A voice crackled over the tactical net.

"Aw'll right boys and girls, we're hitting the LZ in 5. Weapons check now, when we hit I want good dispersal, don't want no damn friendly fire." The grizzled Gunnery Sargeant growled to his squad strapped in the Pelican dropship.

BDU's flapped in the wind of the open hold, clicks of weapons being checked echoed in the small area. The Gunny raising a curios eyebrow at the newly transfered Lance Corporal sitting at the end of the drop bay, the younger man staring out of the rear of the Pelican head nodding to some sort of personal music player.

_What the hell is Mother Corp coming to when Marines bring personal equipment to the battlefield? _Silently thinking to himself. He frowns at the strange set of BDU's the soldier was wearing.

Gunny Craft examines the LCpl, _Not using the standard issue OD BDU's , even his damn equipment is painted a different scheme. _He growls under his breath, _I'm going to chew his ass out once this is over._ The Gunny's face suddenly turns red as the Pelican starts it's turn to bleed off speed and start the quick descent.

"Lance Corporal Young! What the fuck do you think you're doing!"

Dark eyes turn to the Gunny, "Surviving sir." The cold voice responds, the mans neutral expression going back to screwing on a round cylinder to the muzzle of his painted BR55HB.

"No wonder you're not an ODST anymore." muttering in rage at the defiance of the man.

The whine of plasma rounds being fired at the incoming Drop ships pulls the Gunny's attention.

"We do this by the numbers Marines!." He stands up as the Pelicans rapidly descends to complete the combat drop, Marines follow suit weapons at ready.

"TOUCHDOWN!"

"GO GO GO!"

Marines rush out of the Pelican, firing at the covenant defensive position further down the beach.

Plasma fire increasing now that the Marines are exposed, blue concussions of plasma grenades decorating the landscape. Not even a minute into combat and Marines were screaming in pain as plasma burned through the armor scorching their bodies and even in some cases practically melting them into primordial goo.

_Ironic that in age old tradition we Marines storm a beach._ Lance Corporal Nevitz Young smirks at the thought, but even more so at explosion of blood from the head of a silver Elite that was pointing and yelling at his command group.

"Scratch another Elite, let's see how well they hold up." Nevitz runs and dives to a hold dug out by a handheld fuel rod cannon. Sighting down the slightly more powerful scope he personally attached to his rifle, he watches Grunts scurry around in fear and disarray without the recently killed Commander. Another Elite waves his arm trying to rally the troops suddenly now in command. Nevitz's rifle quietly coughs as a burst of rounds are aimed at the head of the Elite, he staggers under the tight grouping of rounds, another burst quickly follows taking down his shields.

_Nice try_. Nevitz ends the Elite's short lived promotion.

"Nice shot!" A Private dives into the depression with Nevtiz. He merely grunts in response and taps the trigger on his rifle learning long ago how to get a single shot out of the weapon. The remaining Covenant forces are whittled down by the gunfire from the remaining Marines.

"FOWARD!"

Nevitz charges forward footing unsteady in the soft blood stained sand. He fires a burst from his rifle into a huddle of grunts taking out a couple due to punctures to their methane breathing system. Nevtiz quickly feeds another magazine into this rifle diving back to the ground to avoid plasma fire. The heat nearly singeing his uniform.

"Frag out!" A well placed fragmentation grenade from another Marine rips the remaining Grunts and nearby Jackals to pieces.

Leftovers of three teams rush to the defensive position the Covenant were holding.

"Clear!" a multitude of other Marines repeating the clear signal quickly follow.

"Alpha Team sound off!" Nevtiz didn't recognize the voice but responded none the less.

"Lance Corporal Young."

"Private Kristoff reporting in."

"Team fall on me."

Nevitz walks over to a NAV marker that showed up in his small HUD.

"Williams give me a sitrep."

With a sigh Nevtiz looks around at his squad members, he takes off the helmet setting it on the ground and then sitting on top of it. _Looks like the Gunny is gone..._

"Command, Gunnery Sargeant Craft is KIA."

"Bravo team, 3 KIA, Charlie Team 2 wounded."

"Understood, Pelicans are inbound, the Covenant are glassing the Northern Hemisphere, we're pulling out."

"Roger Command, out."

Nevitz watched Corporal Williams' face blanch while on the horn with Command, not being able to hear anything due to it being a closed circuit directly to the CC.

_That expression usually means one thing... _ He quietly waits for the oncoming set of orders and SITREP from Command.

"All teams, police up anything Covenant and the KIA, Pelicans are inbound..." Williams takes a shuddering breath, "The Covies are glassing the planet."

It didn't require his helmet to hear the curses of his fellow Marines, Nevitz could only shake his head and frown.

_Not again...it always seems this is what happens._

He stands back up, picking up his helmet and shaking sand out. Nevitz looks up to the sky, the horizon turning a blood red.

"We lose another planet...how many more are going to fall?" softly asking rhetorically. Sliding the helmet back on he helps pick up anything of Covenant technology that will be sent to ONI to be examined before the Pelicans arrived.

"Lance Corporal." a tap on his shoulder turns him back around to Corporal Williams.

"Once we get back to the _Comanche_ you have transfer orders to the _Equinox_." Williams reaches up to scratch his un-helmeted head his face slightly screwed up in confusion.

"Command says they are in need of experienced soldiers." He then shrugs.

"Roger that." Nevitz nods and looks at the sky hearing the roar of Pelicans on approach. A chill runs down his spine with a feeling heavy feeling in his gut at the sight of Longsword escorts.

_Something is not right..._ Nevitz had gotten that strange feeling many times before, his eyes dart around, then a familiar sound pierces through even the drowning out of the nearby Pelicans. That dreadful nightmarish sound of a plasma mortar round from a Wraith.

"INCOMING!" Nevitz shouts hitting the ground, the sky fills with a blue glow as he hears screams then suddenly silenced by a near ear shattering explosion. A massive wave of super heated air washes over him sucking the air out of his lungs then suddenly feels as if his body is weightless.

_Is this it? Is it finally over?_


	2. Chapter 2

A despair filled scream rents the air, Nevitz suddenly sitting up in bed his body covered in cold sweat. His numb brain not processing at first that it was his own despaired voice screaming out suddenly.

"Wha what was that?" as the adrenaline leaves his body he clutches his head in pain closing his eyes. A throbbing headache pierces his consciousness almost like he had spent the last day bathed in nothing but alcohol and now he was paying for it.

"Lance Corporal!" Quick footsteps approach, "Lance Corporal Young, are you okay?"

Nevitz hears shuffling feet and the sound of the stranger looking at a datapad.

"Yeah...I think I'm okay...but I feel like I was run over by a Scorpion while intoxicated enough to kill a fucking Hunter." he then groans from the pain lancing into his head from attempting to open his eyes.

The stranger chuckles at the colorful remark. "You had a close call there Marine."

Vision still blurry but the L.Cpl could see just enough detail to understand where he was, not to mention the smell of a sterile environment. It had become his second home.

"What happened this time?" Nevitz mumbling as he closes his eyes again and starts to rub his temples to try and alleviate the pain in his head.

"This time?" The stranger asks, Nevitz could hear the rustle of clothing as if they were shrugging at the meaning of his question but followed suit with an explanation.

"It seems as if your squad was taking a Covenant defensive position and you were wounded."

Nevitz sighs, "Which Covenant defensive position? I've lost count long ago how many I've taken." his eyes still screwed closed but he could feel the frown on the person from the obvious sarcasm that filled the L.Cpl's voice.

"From your last mission Lance Corporal, your squad was taking Whiskey Beach..."

Nevitz interrupts, "And a Wraith melted the fucking hell out of the remaining members of my squad right?"

"That's correct." Aggravation heavy in the male's voice.

"Gawd fucking dammit." Nevitz mumbles, "I swear the next Elite I meet I'm going to kick him in his fucking balls and use my combat knife to scribble offensive messages into his genitalia." he heavily sighs, "I'm getting really tired of this shit."

"It's your job Marine." and before the man could elaborate.

"I know that, I don't need a reminder that nearly 90 percent of my service time involves possibly being melted into goo, getting eaten by Jackals, or being miraculously whacked by a fucking Grunt."

Nevitz stops from spouting anymore offensive material, "So where am I now? I think...I was supposed to transfer yet again to another station when the previous mission went FUBAR."

"Correct," the man shifts the weight on his feet, "You are aboard the _Equinox_, before you ask how, you were in stable condition with only superficial wounds and a pretty ugly concussion so you were transferred to _Equinox_ while unconscious."

"I take back my previous percentage, I think I spend 10 percent of my time in the med-bay and the other 10 in cryo." Nevitz finally is able to slowly open his eyes.

"Here, take these and drink the glass of water next to you." the 'Doc' holds out a couple of brown colored pills in his hand. Nevitz picks them up popping them into his mouth.

"You know," he takes a swig of his water swallowing the pills, "With medical technology advanced enough to clone human tissue and organs, why do we still have pills?"

The 'Doc' taken aback by such a random question, Nevitz merely waves a hand saying 'Forget about it.'

"There is a full uniform on the chair across from you with personal effects, you are to report to 2nd platoon on Deck 5 when dressed."

"Roger that Doc." Nevitz drains the rest of the tepid water in a quick gulp sliding his legs out of bed and walking over to the chair on unsteady feet.

_Sometimes it really sucks to be in the Armed Forces..._ slightly thinking to himself while getting dressed.


	3. Chapter 3

Elevators hiss open a large number five painted on the floor, an idiot proof identifier, indicating L.Cpl Young had reached the deck he needed to be at.

Spying a PFC wandering not far away he waves out at him, "Yo."

"Oh hello." Turning and saluting, in surety dictating the action.

Nevitz waves off the salute with annoyance _Still got a ways to go kid. _

"Where's 2nd Platoon's CO?" resting his hands on his hips creating a drill instructor pose.

"G-Gunny Haddock is over in 'officer country' third door on the left." slightly intimidated by the presence of the stranger and pointing down the way he was walking.

Nevitz grunts walking down the long corridor. _Gunny Haddock huh?_Wondering to himself.

The PFC shakes his head and frowns seeing the L.Cpl patch sewn into the sleeve. _And here I was thinking he was some ass chewing El-Tee._

Over the centuries of humanity, uniforms and uniform regulations have changed countless times. For the UNSC Marine Corp during non-combat standard olive drab 'utilities' were to be worn with current rank sewn onto it. Rank was not worn on combat utilities, only the branch insignia and name tag.

Nevtiz walked over the invisible threshold known as 'Officer Country', walking down three doors. Completing a stiff turn at attention he knocks on the door waiting for permission to enter.

"Enter." a growl answers, years of too much drinking and or smoking making the baritone voice sound gravelly. Nevitz could only smile now that his suspicions were confirmed.

He reaches down to press a button to open the door, "I thought it was tradition for Squids to fire crusty leathernecks like you from the airlock." his tone neutral while stepping into the warm lighting.

"And you're still a fucking shitbird Young."

"Aye sir." Nevitz stands attention with a salute, mischievous grin plastered on his face, while the door hisses close.

"I had a feeling you were still the same pain in the ass." the older man sitting at a desk scowls raising his arm for a half hearted salute.

Nevitz lowers his arm silently thinking to himself, _He's gotten a bit older since I last saw the Gunny._ Seeing that the shorter than regulation hair was nearly completely gray instead of the salt pepper he last saw._But that sparkle in his eyes still hasn't gone away._

The Gunnery Sargeant changes his expression to a grin and stands up giving Nevtiz a firm handshake and a places a hand on his shoulder.

"Been a long time Nevtiz."

"Sure bloody feels like it Gunny." peering back in the blue eyes of the lifer leatherneck.

"Have a seat." waving his hand at the chair in front of his desk and walking back around to his own.

"So did higher higher finally decide you were a good boy and let you have a coffee maker?" Nevitz nodding his head toward it on a nearby table.

"As much as I love Mother Corp, you know that a cup of the swill they label coffee could kill an entire cruiser of Covvies."

Nevitz couldn't help but laugh, Gunny Haddock not only an addiction to coffee but is a java connoisseur.

"Want a cup?"

He waved a hand and shook his head, "No thanks Gunny, that stuff is probably rocket fuel, enough punch to run a UNSC battleship for a month."

"Smart ass, no wonder you're still a Lance Corporal." Haddock snorts.

"Aw I love you too Gunny." laughter echoes in the room from the two men.

"I hear your last mission turned into a total cluster fuck." the grizzled vet leans back in his chair taking a sip from his mug.

"Even with the many close calls I've had before, even I'm surprised I came out of that one alive." Nevtiz grimaces now that his brain was functioning correctly, recalling the blast that nearly killed him.

Haddock nods in understanding.

"So what gives? I was barely in that Company for a month, even with the Platoon wiped out I could have easily been billeted into another one." Nevtiz frowns.

Gunny Haddock picks up a datapad scrolling through and pulling up Nevitz Young's file.

"Including that one, you've moved around like a horny Squid after a year of no port leave." Haddock frowns as well. "Making it nearly 12 stations?"

"I lost count after 5." Nevtiz sighs.

"Jesus, how the hell did you survive Sigmus V?" Haddock with a look of slight astonishment.

Nevtiz shrugs, "Same as any other time."

"Now, there was never any official report...but from scuttlebutt I heard, it was really ugly. An entire Battalion plus demolished?"

He nods, "And about some hundred thousand civilians."

Haddock sighs heavily tossing the datapad onto the desk with a thunp. "Unfortunately, it looks like you'll be in another one of situations."

Nevtiz's eyes steel up, "Shoot."

"We've got an upcoming mission, there are no details right now but thats because it's hush hush and being handed down by ONI."

"Hush hush and ONI usually go hand in hand Gunny."

"The El-Tee was asked to refit the entire company with as many experienced jarheads as possible. I kicked your name upstairs and thats why you're here now."

"My last Force Recon team got taken down by an ambush of Hunters, pretty gruesome."

Gunny Haddock takes a breath, "I saw that you were being kicked around the Corp, and your service record combined with your experience made you invaluable to me."

Nevtiz frowns at the slight implications.

"Now now, I know you don't have anything to do with the ODST anymore, but I need you. You will be in a fireteam by yourself. I need you to work your magic."

Silence permeates the air till broken, "Sure Gunny."

"You know how I operate better than Mother Corp, I'll stick around and cover your coffee love'n ass." He grins.

"You're still a shitbird Young." Haddock chuckles, thankful that Nevtiz accepted.

"I guess this means I get a little privilege yes?" the L.Cpl smiles.

"You earn privileges by being a Gunny, you just get a foot off your leash." Haddock answers.

"Touché ." Nevtiz laughs.

"Whatta you need?"

"A requisitions form for the Quartermaster saying I'm allowed to pick up whatever necessary equipment I need."

Haddock raises an eyebrow.

"My shit got blown to hell in the last mission. So I need to do some pre-op readying." and before the Gunny could slide in a crude remark, "I'm also not Kawolski, I'm not requisitioning women's panties from the QM or from the barracks."

"Okay you got me with that one." Gunnery Sargeant Haddock pulls out a form quickly filling it out and handing it over to Nevitz while laughing.

"Thanks Gunny." Nevtiz stands up saluting and turning around.

"Oh by the way, you're in bunk twelve, since you are THE fireteam you will be bunking alone."

"Thanks again." Nevtiz waves over his shoulder and walks away.  
"Hope he makes it out of this one alive." Gunny Haddock sighs.


	4. Chapter 4

First order of business was checking if there was any possibility of items left in his bunk on the previous starship had made it's way to the _Equinox_.

_Bunk twelve..._ Nevtiz steps closer the door sliding open, overhead lights flickering to life from his entrance.

_Honestly, my new assignment is quite a stroke of luck._ He never did like bunking with others, preferring the solace of silence and being alone. Nevtiz walks over to a bunk that had a duffel sitting on it, seeing his name stitched into the end displaying ownership.

_Hopefully everything is here._

He opens the bag and starts pulling out items.

_Clothing, hygiene items, datapad, and my other PMD._

"Good everything is here." Nevtiz stows the spare garrison utilities and bag into the footlocker next to the bunk. In truth he didn't have much in the way of personal items. Just what UNSC issued to every soldier and his mild obsession with music.

In ways, some technologies jumped by leaps and bounds, with others easily fell into "If not broke, don't fix it." Personal Music Devices where something that were only slightly improved. Running off of batteries that lasted nearly forever, barely an ounce in weight, could contain over a Terrabyte of data, and a few other handy features. PMD's could only progress so far in terms of improvement, 21st century inventors knew very well what they were doing. Coincidentally, it was the late 20th to early 21st century music he enjoyed. His family had passed down a lot of personal items through the generations and thats where his obsession stemmed from. At the same time what was once known as the Internet turned into a massive conglomerate of networks and peer sharing was still going strong since the first days it was invented. So finding music to listen to wasn't nearly as difficult as one imagined.

Sliding the earbuds into his ears, he flips on the PMD, a disturbing level of shredding guitars flooding his auditory senses. He smiles nodding his head in time sliding the device into a breast pocket then reaching down to grab his datapad. Nevtiz starts scrolling through, first checking email which he received once in a blue moon and usually was a misdirect from the servers. Searching through files he finds what he was looking for.

_Now to the Quartermaster._ Nevitz slides the DP into a trouser pocket and strolls to the elevator.

Nevtiz steps off on the 3rd deck, feet following the once again idiot proof paint on the floor leading to the Armory. Switching off the PMD and sliding the headphones into the same pocket he walks into the Armory, the metallic tinge of cleaned and fired weapons greeting his nose. He takes a deep breath, _I'll never get tired of that smell._

The Lance Corporal walks over to a counter to a man hunched over a disassembled M6G.

"Need something?" he looks up from the weapon.

"Yes sir Staff Sargeant." Nevtiz pulls out the form from Gunny Haddock and slides it to the SSG.

A curious eyebrow raises, "Now why would a Lance Corporal have damn near free reign in my armory?"

"It's all for an upcoming op sir."

He shrugs, "Gunny Haddock knows what he's doing, so what do you need?" tapping a finger on the counter.

"The usual, tac-com, combat knife, M6G with 3 spare mags, cleaning and tool kit, a 99D with 6 mags, and a BR55HB with 6 mags."

The Staff Sargeant had long ago stopped tapping his finger unsure of what to think about the requests.

"Anything else Lance Corporal?" a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Combat gear can wait for now, but you might want to give me cases for the weapons, especially after I'm done with them you'll probably not even want to touch them ever again."

The SSG disappears into a doorway behind where he was standing.

"Are you serious about all that equipment?"

Nevtiz turns to his left seeing a female Corporal with grease smudges on her face and hands, a visual indicator that Small Arms Repair was her MOS.

He nods, "Yeah I am."

"Taking on the Covenant Army on your own?" she tilts her head.

"Just preparing for the worst."

"Corporal Baker!" her head turns at the sound of her name, and runs to the back room where the SSG had disappeared to.

"You sure you know how to use all this stuff?" the SSG mocking the Lance Corporal while pushing a cart with all the equipment he asked for. Corporal Baker in tow with two gun cases.

_Guess he's mad for requesting all that shit._

"I've been around the block." Nevitz answers back.

"Are you going to take all of it now?" the Cpl asks.

Nevitz shakes his head, "Not just yet, I've got a few requests after I inspect everything."

The SSG mumbles something inaudible and pushes the cart to a table on hydraulic legs so that it can be lowered and raised for whatever was needed.

Nevtiz grabs the pistol checking to make sure it was unloaded.

"You sure you don't need any help Marine?" the SSG smiles trying to give him a hard time.

"No sir." Nevtiz grins back and starts to break down the pistol without looking.

Corporal Baker whistles in amazement, "I think that may be a ship record sir."

"Okay, where the hell did you learn to do that?" the Staff Sergeant amused.

Nevtiz picks up and visually inspects each part, "I grew up around weapons." Slowly he reassembles the pistol checking the action of the slide, sighting down the pistol, then setting it back down.

"I also used to be Force Recon."

Nevtiz picks up the BR breaking it down as a gasp escapes the Corporal.

"An FR Helljumper?" she looks up at the Staff Sargeant.

"Then there must be some shit going down if you're using this equipment..." he softly states.

Nevtiz shrugs, "You know about as much as I do sir."

He reassembles the BR55 holding it in one hand, then reaches into his pocket for the datapad.

"I need a little work done on all these weapons. Mostly on this battle rifle." Nevtiz taps a couple times on the pad and hands it to the Staff Sargeant.

"Are you kidding?" he questions reading the information.

"No sir, I need the BR and 99D to be painted along with the magazines. The M6 will be done in a simple flat black same with the mags."

"What about the knife?"

"I'll take care of that myself as long as you got a torch in the back." Nevtiz sets down the BR to move over to the SRS99D sniper rifle, "Hit the next page, before the BR can be painted I need a suppressor machined according to the schematics."

This time the Staff Sargeant whistles, "Very nice, you come up with this yourself?"

"I only had a few ideas on how to improve the current standard that the ODST like to use, I worked with an armorer to come up with that schematic."

The SSG finds new respect for the younger man, "Mind if I make a copy of it?"

Nevtiz shrugs, "I don't mind."

"So why the paint job on the weapons?" Cpl. Baker curious now.

"It dates back to earlier Marine Corp history, and it's a long story." Nevtiz grins slightly, "But to make a long story short. If I were to take a hidden position what do you think you'd see?" he waves a hand over the weapons. "These? Or camouflaged weapons following the pattern I have on the datapad."

The Corporals eyes widen slightly at the thought, "Wow."

"So take the cammo'd weapons along with all my equipment, clothing, and skin black or camouflaged. Think you'd be able to find me?" Nevtiz chuckles.

Cpl. Baker stunned shakes her head, "No way."

"I've heard of camouflaging, but I thought it was a long dead art."

"The UNSC may not care much about it, but I sure as hell do. It's saved my life more than once." Nevtiz sets down the sniper rifle, "As the informal motto of Force Recon goes, 'Death waits in the shadows.'"

"Well shall we get started?" they load the weapons onto the cart.

Corporal Baker reaches down to pick up the cases, "I'll take care of that." Nevtiz grabs the gun cases.

"Oh? I'm a big girl now, but then again I thought chivalry was extinct."

"Not completely." Nevitz laughs following the Quartermaster to the workroom in the back.


End file.
